


Sleeping at the Edge

by ColorSpeak, tiredpotato



Category: Carmilla - All Media Types
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/F, Lightsabers bitch, Occasional fluff, SWAU, So much angst, Star Wars AU, mostly angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-08-08 05:54:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7745749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColorSpeak/pseuds/ColorSpeak, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiredpotato/pseuds/tiredpotato
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Where Carmilla and Danny are Jedi, Laura is a Princess, LaFontaine is an engineer, and Kirsch is a pilot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In honor of Season 3 finally being in production, we present the Star Wars AU.

Danny stood, legs shoulder-width apart, blindfolded. Lightsaber in hand, she concentrated on the training remote, model XIV or something, somewhere in front of her. She could feel its presence, but was unable to suss out its exact location. She inhaled deeply, attempting to allow the Force to guide her. As Danny exhaled, slowly and evenly, she stepped into her ready position. She unclicked the aqua blue beam and trusted her instincts.

A blaster shot came from the training remote. Danny swung her lightsaber around, acting on intuition, to deflect the shot. With success, the ray ricocheted back toward the source. Danny’s confidence beamed. Another shot. Another deflection. Third shot, third save.

The Dean paced around in front of Danny, admiring her training finally being put to use.

Danny began twisting in her stance, allowing the Force to help her block shots in quick succession, one to her left, another behind her back, two directly in front of the Dean. The training remote hovered around her, quickly changing its angling on an invisible circumference around the Jedi In Training. Danny had never had this many blocks in a row; as the number of successful defensive moves increased, she began thinking about what she would do if the number became ten, twelve, eighteen.

“You need to exert yourself, Danielle, if you’re ever going to be…” the Dean paused momentarily.

Danny’s focus was so pinpointed, she did not hear the doors crawl open behind her.

“... as good as Carmilla.”

Swiftly, an attitude laden Jedi waltzed in. William, Stormtrooper Commander, by her side. The Jedi lifted her cloak off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor narcissistically.

“I think we all know that could never happen,” Carmilla drawled.

Danny felt a swell of anger and in the blink of an eye was gasping and rubbing at a spot on her shoulder where she’d missed a blaster shot. Danny furrowed her brows, disappointment and frustration coming to her in equal measures. She pulled back the saber and holstered it on her belt. She reached up to grab the training remote, turning it off as she plucked it out of the air. With her back to Carmilla, Danny wound up like a pitcher, and hucked the ball just past Carmilla’s ear, smashing it to pieces on the wall.

“Like I said,” Carmilla continued, casually reclining herself onto one of the metal chairs in the room, a smirk adorning her face.

Danny marched up to the command deck, resting her fists on the cold metal. She inhaled, slowing her breathing. She looked out over the system the Star Ship was passing right now, the planet Korvu off to her left. It was quiet, covered in snow. There weren’t any clouds in sight on the visible side of the planet. Danny admired the hills that were only discernible by the shadows the sun was creating as the planet rotated gently. Peaceful.

“To be the best you’ve got to beat the best, Xena,” Carmilla teased.

The Dean folded her arms across her chest. She eyed her current and former students.

Danny focused in on the quiet of the planet, testing the reaches of her Force capabilities. She closed her eyes, pushing herself off the console, and returned to the training area.

“Fight.”

Danny looked at the Dean. Her eyes were stone, dark and unmoving. Carmilla rolled her eyes and groaned like a parent was asking her to perform menial chores. Danny shifted her weight between her feet and centered herself, focusing her breathing. She would beat that moody and entitled brat. She focused intensely on her arms. How she would defend. She focused on her shoulders, not giving away her attack initiation. This was the time she would win. Danny extended her lightsaber.

Carmilla rose from her lounging and force-pulled her saber into her hand. “I’ll go easy on you like I always do, don’t worry.”

“Fuck you.”

Carmilla clicked open her weapon, revealing an effervescent purple blade. She stood there, sloppy stance, off balance, completely exposed. Danny analyzed her posture. Carmilla isn’t that stupid. Danny calculated an attack.

Danny leaned back on her heels before kneeling down and jumping toward the apathetic Jedi. Danny pulled her saber down from above her head as her feet planted solidly inches from Carmilla, attempting to thrash Carmilla in the shoulder. The Jedi sighed boredly, and lifted her right arm, crossing her arm across her body to block Danny’s attack. Danny pushed down on the beams, ringing from the electricity, as hard as she could. Carmilla rose her hand up to her face and bit a nail, ignoring Danny’s struggle.

“Aaahhh,” Danny pulled back, twisting away from Carmilla’s defense. She wiped her stray hairs from her face and mopped the sweat from her brow.

Carmilla unclicked her saber and turned her back on Danny, “Are you even trying, Junior?”

Danny huffed, feeling the Force in her veins. Guiding. Trusting. Growing. She walked a few steps toward the Dean behind Carmilla, the Dean smirking with fond amusement. Carmilla yawned obnoxiously.

“Do you always have to be such an ass?” Danny ran at Carmilla, her head down, leading with her shoulders. She thrusted her saber down onto the Jedi who unclicked and positioned her saber just in time to shield her back from the sloppy attack.

“What can I say, it’s a habit.”

Danny pulled back and immediately redirected her attack, downward onto a waiting lavender beam. Danny pulled back again and redirected four shots, above the shoulders, in rapid succession, only to be stopped by a lazy swing of Carmilla’s weapon. Danny spun to take a shot at Carmilla’s legs before she felt a foot square on her butt, propelling her off balance.

Carmilla yawned again. “I am literally kicking your ass this time.”

The Dean called Carmilla off for a moment, motioning for her weapon. Carmilla tossed it at the Dean before turning around and walking to the back of the room. Carmilla sat on the floor, legs crossed, eyes closed. Danny unclicked her saber and stood up before the Dean.

“Danielle, you are leading with your heart, not your brain. In order to win, clarity must be achieved. Do not let her nonchalance throw you.”

Danny held the eye contact before the Dean turned away, ordering, “Continue.”

Danny unclicked her weapon again, attempting to be casual. She allowed the tension and annoyance to seep away from her core. Carmilla remained sitting. Danny walked toward her. Carmilla stayed still. Danny rose her arms above her head and allowed her brain to take control. Carmilla pulled her saber from her former teacher’s desk table, clicked it on, and intercepted the blade next to her face. Danny pushed down, her eyes closed. She had beaten her record with the training remote with a blindfold. The key to feeling the force is to block out all other contradictory sensations. She inhaled slowly. Carmilla’s attacks seemed to come in slow motion, just shy of full speed. Carmilla lead with her hips, jumping down onto the Jedi in Training. Danny swung her saber up, catching the beam, the crashing echoing off the walls.

Will shifted his weight, watching the Jedi knight unleash her power on the Trainee. The Dean grinned.

Carmilla attacked quickly; she swung hard to her left, then to her right, and down over Danny’s head. Each swing was met with a perfectly timed block. She could feel the Force in her lungs.

Carmilla swung upward, both hands gripping the handle of her saber. Danny met the blow and Carmilla flipped the attack. Carmilla pushed Danny’s saber toward the floor, sparks flying as the lightray met the metal.

“The floor, ladies,” the Dean hissed.

Carmilla jumped over Danny, rotating in the air as she landed, delivering another attack with such force, the walls shook. Danny did not back down. Will’s posture loosened at his growing interest in the duel between his mother’s new and former students.

“Come on, Kitty, quit playing with her pride.”

Carmilla fired off five blows over her head, down upon Danny’s saber, each swing becoming exponentially more powerful. Danny’s knee buckled, causing her to fall. Carmilla unclicked her saber. Danny slid under Carmilla opening her eyes and meeting Carmilla’s huffing frame with a smug grin. Carmilla tossed her weapon onto the floor next to where she was sitting before being summoned to fight for the petty entertainment of Jedi Master Morgan.

“I almost had you that time,” Danny swiped the hair from her eyes.

“Almost isn’t good enough, Danielle,” she mocked. Carmilla closed her eyes and knelt down to get the shattered pieces of the training remote.

“I’ll get this over to repair and have it ready for tomorrow’s session,” Carmilla eyed Danny. The Dean showered praises onto her star pupil, Carmilla, before she exited the training room.

Danny could read something, exactly what, it was hard to say, but Carmilla’s energy had shifted. It was sour. It was tense.

The proud silence in the room was interrupted by a scratching sound. Carmilla’s saber exited the room and rolled toward its miffed owner down the hall.

Danny was improving.

\---------

LaFontaine tried vigorously to suppress a bubbling laughter from escaping their frame, a wide-eyed pained expression written across their face, eyebrows crinkled.

Across from them, J.P. was well past that point, and had long succumbed to a shoulder-bouncing chuckle.

“Okay, okay, I’ve got one,” J.P. took deep breaths to try and keep the laughter at bay. “What did the nuclear physicist have for lunch?”

LaFontaine quieted, a giggle escaping every few seconds, and just shook their head.

“Fission chips.”

The two droid engineers burst out laughing simultaneously. Tears began to trickle down LaFontaine’s face and they simply gave up on keeping the jubility at bay.

Carmilla announced herself with a sigh, entering the room. She immediately side stepped upon discovering a red-faced LaFontaine and a J.P. who was far too proud of his pun, propelling LaFontaine to further dissolve into loud guffaws.

Carmilla quirked an eyebrow, and a few deep breaths later, LaFontaine was finally able to meet her gaze.

“We’re making science puns. Wanna hear one?”

“Not really.”

LaFontaine pretended not to hear her. “What did one capacitor say to the other?”

J.P. raised his hand, “I know this one!”

Carmilla set the training remote on the table, pieces sliding out in front of the engineers. She stiffened, seeming to prepare herself for the horror she was about to witness.

LaFontaine suppressed more giggles before composing themself. “We’ve got the capacitance for love!”

“I sure hope your repairing skills are better than your jokes. Need this one fixed,” Carmilla directed their attention to the shattered training remote on the countertop. LaFontaine saw through the attempted distraction, but the prospect of tinkering was more enticing.

“Sure, that’ll be an easy fix!” LaFontaine reached for a welder and a screwdriver while J.P. got up to grab eye protection for everyone.

LaFontaine analyzed the shards and welded piece after piece in fairly quick succession, only stopping to allow the welds to set. They welded without a care in the world, completely disregarding their own safety. LaFontaine could hear voices, presumably Carmilla and J.P. making small talk, but they only cared about making the pieces fit and reviving the broken droid.

They finished welding and got up to rummage through the spare circuit boards they kept for situations like these.

Off-handedly, they heard Jeep point out his little pet project.

They found the part and resumed their work promptly.

Going through a methodical mental checklist, they set about performing the tasks to reprogram the droid. Remapping to pins on a new microcontroller, fixing peripherals, crossing technological t’s and dotting programmable i’s. They raced against themself, seeing how quickly they could program the droid while remaining accurate. After a few minutes, they held the droid in the air, exclaiming as they did.

LaFontaine thrust the droid into Carmilla’s face, “Done!”

Carmilla took it in hand, flipped the switch on, tossed it in the air, and pulled out her saber. The remote shot off three quick beams toward the Jedi. The precision in which Carmilla used her weapon to protect herself from the light-rays was impressive. Like a well-oiled machine.

LaFontaine analyzed her speed and accuracy, making a mental note to do some tweaking on the random location generation. True randomness was impossible to replicate, but LaFontaine could get very close given time. See how reliable the Force really is when faced with near-perfect science.

Looking more closely, Lafontaine could see Carmilla was a little slow on the pull back when the remote directed an attack across her body, suggesting a possible injury she hadn’t let heal all the way. Her backstep was a tad shaky. Unfamiliarity with the environment. Across the room, Jeep crossed his arms, watching as Carmilla demonstrated her profound and arrogant confidence. She finished off a five-point attack with near perfection. A few tweaks here and there and Carmilla could be unstoppable as a fighter.

The remote beeped when done, signaling the end of the session. Carmilla guided the remote down into her palm. Just like new. Minus the welding marks but LaFontaine could clean those up with a hour or two of grinding and polishing. LaFontaine was proud of their work.

Carmilla set the droid down, and holstered her weapon, “Continue,” she ordered Jeep.

“So the whole point of reworking the module is to ensure the blasters stop going off at random,” Jeep finished the sentence he had started, LaFontaine didn’t know when. “It should only take three days to work out in the testing sector but Mother keeps delaying the project with other minor tweaks to the propulsion system on the X-Wing remodel.”

Carmilla nodded, “Once you’ve finished testing the prototype?”

“Only a month to phase out the old blasters with the modified model in the entire Infantry,” Jeep put his hands in his pocket, a modest gesture when he knows he has outdone himself.

Carmilla regarded the information, “Why hasn’t the Dean prompted the prototype yet?”

Jeep shrugged, “We aren’t really sure, Jedi Karnstein,” he looked down at his shoes and pulled his hands out of his pockets. He rubbed his left hand instinctively, another modest gesture. LaFontaine had noticed he only did that when he was disappointed or nervous, “We keep getting shot down.”

A cheesy and quiet grin stretched across LaFontaine’s face. Their shoulders wiggled slightly to the silent laughter threatening Jeep’s settling insecurity. Jeep looked up to meet LaFontaine’s gaze, the grin growing tighter on their face. He looked at Carmilla, who looked between the two of them quickly, pinballing between the grins slowly growing. LaFontaine erupted, hands on their knees, J.P. joining in shortly after.

Exasperated, Carmilla’s face morphed into one of disbelief, “Was that another fucking pun?”

“That triggered quite a reaction in you, Jedi,” LaFontaine croaked out between fits of amusement.

“You should trying relaxing more, you might have a bit more of a blast,” J.P. choked out.

Carmilla squinted but was unable to keep her lips from twitching in amusement.

J.P. jumped on the Jedi’s reaction, “I take it LaF’s laughter is infectious, yes?”

The engineers burst into another fit of laughter and the Jedi succumbed to a reluctant chuckle. LaFontaine’s guffawing propelled them into the table, inadvertently nudging the blaster prototype on the lab table and causing it to misfire. The vibrant red charge fired at such a rapid rate, the hair on LaFontaine’s arms were standing up before they realized Jeep was face to face with a ray of light, threatening his life. If Carmilla had not reached out and stopped the blast with the Force, inches from J.P.’s face, more than just his eyebrows would be singed off.

Carmilla exhaled after having a firm control over the light, buzzing in the middle of the room, hanging in the air. LaFontaine reluctantly had to admit that even the pulsating, raw energy of the blaster shot was no match for Carmilla’s handling of the Force.

“Are you two geniuses going to get out of the way or what?” she said in a painfully casual tone.

J.P. exhaled sharply before grabbing the welding masks he had discarded on the workbench after LaFontaine had finished the repair job. They took the offered mask from J.P. and pulled the energy-diffusing blast shield - which they’d invented after one too many trips to the medical bay - in front of their crouching bodies.

Carmilla checked to be sure they were covered and let the beam go. It travelled until it hit the shield and then was split across the surface, bouncing off and to the side until it was absorbed by the lab’s walls, another invention that triumphed over the lack of safety the lead engineer held right next to their uncontainable enthusiasm for reckless experiments.

“So how long is that upgrade going to take?” Carmilla asked as the engineers poked their heads out from behind the shield, lifting their masks to see the effectiveness of the wall modifications. LaFontaine and J.P. high-fived.

\-------------

Carmilla watched as the nerds cleaned up the mess they’d made fixing the training remote. She took the momentary reprieve from awful puns to compose herself. J.P. and LaFontaine were exuding such a jubilant energy it was hard for her not to absorb some of the mirth. Whether she wanted to or not. But she supposed it was better than sucking up Danny’s competitive spirit or Will’s shitty arrogance. She could feel the Force enveloping her, like a second skin clinging to her, keeping Carmilla simultaneously safe and exposed. Every person she came in contact with, whose mood and personality brushed her, left vestiges for up to hours afterward, depending on the strength of the feeling.

Carmilla took a breath and tried to isolate the foreign emotions from her own. Couldn’t go around looking like some giddy fool. Carmilla centered herself, closing her eyes, slowing her breathing and created the slightest of barriers between herself and the Force. A film, thin enough to still feel the general climate of things, but thick enough to act as a protection.

She reached out, feeling the now-dulled lights of those near her. The two ecstatic lights from J.P. and LaFontaine were closest, but if she reached further she could feel a smug soul, most likely Will, talking to a loving and proud one, probably Jedi Master Morgan. Expanding her feeling, she found an intensely focused form, conflicted. Danny.

Carmilla took stock of each one, checking to make sure there was nothing amiss. The Dean’s energy began to change, darkening slightly, becoming more focused, and Carmilla felt Will moving away from his mother, a new sense of determination overtaking him.

Carmilla opened her eyes, anticipating what would happen next.

The overhead speaker in the room crackled to life, causing the nerds to jump. Carmilla began heading for the door. Jedi Master Morgan came over the coms, her voice becoming quieter with every step Carmilla took away from the lab, speaking matter-of-factly, “Carmilla, LaFontaine, J.P., you’re needed at the command deck. Quickly.”

One of the nerds called, asking Carmilla to wait up. She ignored whichever one it was.

Moving swiftly, it wasn’t long before her strides brought her to the command deck, where the Dean was waiting with Will, who was now in his Stormtrooper gear, minus the helmet, which was tucked under his arm. A hologram of an older man projected into the middle of the room, dressed in the ornate robes of some sort of royalty.

Will quirked an eyebrow at Carmilla, “Where’s my twin? Weren’t you supposed to bring LaFontaine and J.P. with you?”

Before Carmilla could respond, J.P. ran in the door and slid on his heels to a stop, LaFontaine being unable to stop in time behind him. They slammed into his back and the two tumbled to the floor, just sitting there momentarily, chests heaving. Reclining on their hands behind them, LaFontaine looked at Carmilla and spoke between breaths, “How do you walk that fast? We ran and still couldn’t catch up.”

“Trade secret, can’t tell you that.”

“That’s not Jedi training, she’s just an asshole,” Will responded.

J.P. interjected, “On the contrary, I’ve always found Ms. Karnstein to be rather pleasant… er, occasionally.”

LaFontaine rolled their eyes, “The VooDoo Magic is strong with this one,” they mocked and turned to J.P., “And you’re just kissing ass.”

The man in the hologram cleared his throat and Jedi Master Morgan gave them all pointed looks. J.P. and LaFontaine scrambled to their feet, muttering apologies. Will stood at attention. Carmilla sighed. Darn. The fun had just started.

The Dean’s nostrils flared, “Now that the children are done goofing around… here’s the situation. King Hollis had informed me that insurgents on Styria have made a move that threatens both his Silas Kingdom and our Jedi Temple. As our engineers are well aware, this planet has an astonishing quantity of an easily weaponized material used primarily to make droids.”

J.P. raised his hand, “Yes, Dextrogen. We use it to contain various forms of energy, both in droids and in safety equipment.”

“Where are they now?” Carmilla asked, looking between the hologram and Jedi Master Morgan.

The hologram sighed, “Right outside our military outfitting base. They’ve taken the miners hostage and threatened to blow the planet if they are not met by a cargo ship in the next four hours. The material is very sensitive until it settles, usually taking from seven to ten hours after mining...”

LaFontaine interjected, “That’s why they have the deadline. They need the ship to transport the material before it no longer can be used as a detonator. Once it cures, it transforms from an igniting material to an absorbing one, and can be used to diffuse any amount of energy at varying intensities.”

Carmilla studied the information. They had done their homework.

“And once it’s cured, the material is worth a very pretty penny. I should know, I buy enough of it,” LaFontaine finished off with a smirk.

“How much have they stolen?” Will asked, shifting his weight, pretending to be interested.

“Enough. That’s why I contacted your ship, Master Morgan. I need LaFontaine’s expertise and integrity in diffusing the situation. I leave the exact details of the operation to your discretion.”

The Dean nodded and looked over at Will, who nodded and put on his helmet before radioing over the intercom, “Squads three and seven, report to the hangar bay. We will be departing in twelve minutes. I repeat, twelve minutes.”

LaFontaine began speaking, “How do you know it’s going to take exactly twel--OW, J.P.!” Their partner elbowed them in the side.

“I assure you, King Hollis, our best team will be on the ground shortly,” The Dean signed off before the hologram disappeared. Once King Hollis was gone, she continued, “Carmilla, you will accompany LaFontaine. Will is going to keep the insurgents at bay with his stormtroopers, you are to be an extra layer of protection in case something goes wrong.”

Carmilla could feel the uneasiness in the pit of her stomach.

A small droid beeped behind the group, causing everyone to turn around. LaFontaine’s face dropped.

“I completely forgot about the meeting with Mr. Masgo. Perry’s going to kill me if I miss another one of her business meetings,” they ran a hand through their partially singed hair. Conflicted, LaFontaine looked instinctively at J.P. for a solution, a gesture which usually was the other way around.

“I know dextrogen almost as well as you do. I’ll go in your place. Go keep Ms. Perry happy.”

“Are you sure?”

“What kind of engineer doesn’t want to go into battle and disarm potentially disastrous material?”

LaFontaine made a frustrated sound. “Why do you get to have all the fun?”

Carmilla could feel the conflict in the room. The unsettlement boiling deep within her. Time slowed down as the energies competed inside her being for attention. LaFontaine’s pressure to fulfill their obligations as an executive, Will’s excitement in getting off the ship, the genuine loyalty in J.P.’s actions. The Dean’s unease in the situation. Somewhere further off she could feel Danny bubbling in annoyance.

Carmilla inhaled slowly, pushing everything back, “Whichever Nerd it is, let’s move. We’ve only got three minutes,” she glared at William.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare yourselves...

 

This was going to be a shitshow.

The door to the dropship hissed open, creating a ramp down to the ground. As the setting sun’s rays poked through the door, chaos erupted. There was a large pile of Dextrogen, probably eight to nine feet high, right next to a giant hole in the surface of the planet. The mine. Carmilla counted roughly thirty-two insurgents. A handful of which were flanking behind a makeshift fortress, a dozen or so attempting to secure the material, and some stragglers running between the pile and a moderately sized ship. 

“We have roughly three hours, Jedi Karnstein,” J.P. notated, gathering up some equipment that looked like it belonged in a prison from a horror movie. 

Carmilla raised an eyebrow, “Can we speed that up at all with your… toys?”

J.P. began informing Carmilla about the tools he had brought with him. Something about a temperature gauge, a coolant of some sort, and something that sounded like gibberish. Whatever. 

“So long as we don’t blow up, cool.”

J.P. readied himself behind Carmilla. Carmilla nodded to Will. 

The stormtrooper battalion spread out upon exiting the ship. Nothing was more beautiful than well-coordinated military tactics. 

Carmilla inhaled, counting her heartbeats, and steadied herself. She had been in situations like this before. This was what she trained for. Carmilla inhaled slowly, setting her mind at rest, allowing her instincts to take over. 

Patience, precision, and poise. 

She drew her saber, the purple beam anxious to see some action. Carmilla could sense J.P. rehearsing his plan behind her. She stepped out of the dropship and figured out their path to the minerals. 

Beams of red light shot through the air haphazardly, in every different direction. The sound from the blasters ripping through the air at a deafening rate. Will was off to her left, leading his troops to the loading ship where the material was being moved to, the escape ship that had been demanded. A smaller group of soldiers rushed the fortress and after some struggle, managed to detain the group. The men abandoned the shrinking pile of material to fire at the Jedi and her Nerd. 

Using the Force and intense concentration, Carmilla was able to deflect shots directed at them. With her weapon drawn, she walked a circle around J.P., as he made his way to the pile of material, deflecting any sort of attack in their general direction. Beams bounced off her saber and back into their origin source, causing eruptions of cursing and screaming. 

They reached the pile as Carmilla Force-pulled the remaining insurgent’s weapons into a pile. 

“How long do you need?” Carmilla prompted. 

“I can have it cured in less than an hour. Shouldn’t be more than ten minutes to give you a more accurate timeframe,” J.P. answered as he stuck some metal rod into the side of the mass of minerals that seemed to be humming. He checked his watch, counting the seconds between dial updates. He knew what he was doing. 

A few of the insurgents were poorly attempting to sneak up to the weapons Carmilla had taken from them earlier. She could feel the futile attempts at being silent. Even without the Force she would have heard them. Carmilla used the Force to throw them over to the growing pile of detained insurgents, just as Will turned around to cuff them. 

Carmilla smirked at Will, sending him a metaphorical middle-finger. 

Eventually, there was one holdout of two or three agitators left, firing their weapons wildly in hopes of evading the inevitable capture. Without any regard for their target, blasts flew through the air and Will’s troops had to be careful to avoid the blasts. Carmilla watched lazily as they ducked in and out of defensive positions behind various pieces of rubble. 

Carmilla felt a slow and subtle twisting in her gut and willed herself with a deep breath to let the Force guide her actions. 

One of the insurgents, a woman with tattered clothing and messy hair, let a shot fly in J.P.’s direction. Carmilla crouched and sprang, feeling her body fly through the air toward J.P. It felt like ages before she found herself in front of the shot. Bringing her lightsaber in front of her, she was able to deflect the beam just before it came into contact with her body.

Carmilla’s acrobatics had distracted the final insurgents just long enough for Will’s stormtroopers to get to them. The agitators were forced into restraints and marched over to where the others were being held.

Carmilla looked over J.P., who had apparently been so engrossed in his work, he’d completely missed what had just occurred. Carmilla rolled her eyes but let out a sigh of relief.

Returning her attention to the others, Carmilla barked out an order, “I want a headcount.”

Will returned to Carmilla a few moments later, “Thirty-two.”

Carmilla nodded. She did a once over on the troops. The longer she looked at them, the less organized and more thrown-together they seemed. They never stood a chance. She could feel fear, aggression, humiliation, and sorrow as she scanned the group. The emotions mingled together, intertwined and confused, like a cube of sugar placed into a drink, its contents dissolving. 

“Who’s in charge here?” Will demanded. 

Silence.

“Either one of you steps up, or I shoot you one by one until I find who it is or there’s no one left.”

Carmilla felt a shift, an overwhelming depth of conflict. She closed her eyes and allowed the feeling to pull her. It guided her like a nostalgic memory tugging at the edge of subsconcious.

“That one,” she pointed with her eyes still closed. A smaller man, with a brow of steel was hoisted up by one of William’s troops. He was released and kicked to the ground, landing on his knees in front of the Commander. His clothes were old and worn. His demeanor only suggested a hint of sorrow, most likely for getting others wrapped up in his agenda. 

Will raised his gun up to the man’s head, presumably his wife gasped, rattling something in a foreign tongue. Carmilla only caught a few words of it. A promise to follow him in the afterlife. 

How romantic. 

Carmilla sighed, knowing Will’s impulse all too well, “We were not given a kill order. Our job was to secure the Dextrogen, round up the insurgents, and take them into custody.” 

Will looked down the barrel of his gun, “Why not? The galaxy would be better off without these scumbags. Let them go and they’ll just turn around and take another system down. Can’t be trusted,” he spat.

“William…”

“There needs to be consequences,” Will turned to face Carmilla, “If you hadn’t been punished by mother when you…”

“Enough.”

The two stood toe to toe, jaws jutting out, measuring their metaphorical dicks.

Time slowed down. Will raised his gun defiantly. The barrel of his gun resting between the eyes of the leader. Carmilla drew her weapon. The wife started muttering. The other troops gripped their guns. The purple light-ray extended. Will’s thumb flipped the safety off. Carmilla gripped her weapon harder. She prepared herself. The man closed his eyes. The wife started crying. 

A blast. 

The man sighed. 

Alive. 

The wife cried harder still. 

Wait. 

A thud in the distance. 

J.P. fell to the ground, by the base of the newly cured material. His tools he had been gathering scattered on the ground, the sweat on his brow clinging onto his hair.

Lifeless. 

Carmilla clicked her saber. Will re-switched his safety. He holstered his blaster. He shouted something. Carmilla couldn’t look away from J.P.’s body, he had just saved the planet, and for what? It was her fault. Carmilla’s fault. She couldn’t and now he was and Will and LaFontaine--what had she done.

Carmilla looked up to see William pull back his right arm and propel his fist into the mask of the troop whose gun must have gone off accidentally. His fist collided with the mask, splitting it from just above the mouthpiece down to the base by the chinstrap. The trooper fell to the ground, his arms raised defensively. The energy radiating from Will was blinding. Blood red, boiling. Will took his helmet off and dropped it by his side, erupting into a flurry of fists onto the now shattered helmet of the troop, yelling over and over about how his brother was dead. 

She glanced at J.P.’s body before a still, empty feeling invaded her. Suffocating. 

Carmilla stepped past the group of prisoners, toward a speeder bike they had used to invade the compound. 

She hopped on, all the while watching William beat his soldier to a pulp. He finally subsided, turning to see her mounting the bike. 

“Were we given a fleeing order, Jedi Karnstein?” he mocked exasperatedly. He unholstered his blaster and faced the insurgent leader once again. 

Carmilla sped off into the waning night, hearing a single shot fired once she was out of sight. 

\----------

Danny’s knees buckled. 

She felt a shift, for what reason and end, evaded her. Her breath was knocked out of her chest, left heaving at the command deck control panel. She could feel the depths of the deepest oceans in the galaxy around her as she inhaled sharply, her head spinning. It was nothing like she had ever felt before; intoxicating, but in a manipulative way. Slowly the fog lifted so she could gather herself.

She turned to the Dean, who was standing stock still. “What was that?” Danny questioned with exasperation.

Suddenly, the Dean clutched her chest, legs giving out beneath her as she fell.

Danny rushed to her side, pulling her up from the floor. After a few moments, the Dean came to, breath shallow and shattered. Danny waited, albeit impatiently, for the Dean to catch her breath. Her question still hung in the air.

“Where are they?” the Dean croaked out, “Where are my sons?”

Danny glanced uneasily out the window down to the planet. “They’re taking care of the insurgents on the surface. J.P. and Will are not here.”

“He’s dead.”

“Who’s dead?” Danny worried. 

The Dean began sobbing, “J.P. is dead. His light is gone.” 

Danny began to panic, her hands started trembling, her heart rate increasing. That’s what that feeling was? Danny called upon her training, allowing the Force to guide her back to some sort of calm. When she achieved some clarity, she began piecing together what must have happened.

“I guess Wonder Girl isn’t perfect after all.”

There was an intake of breath next to Danny, but she barely gave it any notice. The mission was supposed to have gone off without a hitch, and now one of the most beloved figures in the Order was gone. The calm faded, replaced by a steady fire to be better, to improve.

She would never let this happen on her watch again.

After several moments, the feeling was still charging through Danny’s veins. She looked down again to the planet while the Dean sobbed inconsolably on the floor, muttering about emotions and loss.

\----------

Carmilla docked her speeder in front of one of the bars in the town surrounding the Jedi Temple, not bothering to secure it to anything. Will’s rage was still swirling through her, clouding her mind like a poison. Like a drug. 

She was in desperate need of an antidote, a numbness, and alcohol and sex were the best way she knew to achieve it. Constantly being in tune with the emotions of those around her, Carmilla was tired. Tired of feelings that were not her own. Tired of figuring out their emotions for them. Tired of weeding through her brain, questioning which thoughts were hers, authentically, and which ones were mutated from her proximity to others. She closed herself off to the Force. Just for the night. It went against her training, against the few things Carmilla stood for, but she did it. Just to get through the night. She walked into the bar and ordered two stiff drinks she knew would push her well past tipsy. 

An empty feeling that was completely her own overtook Carmilla. The underpinnings of grief and sorrow pulled at her like an current, impossible to escape. She hoped the spirits would take that away too given time, though if something were to replace it, Carmilla wasn’t sure what she’d want it to be.

Carmilla did her best to tune out the bar, at least until her veins filled with dizziness and she didn’t have to think so hard. Unfortunately, some idiot was at the other end of the bar being all kinds of loud. Some kind of douche canoe. He was tall, well-built, with a dopey look animating his face while he talked to the unhappy girl next to him. Carmilla glared at him, hoping he’d get the message, to no avail. Eventually she ordered some peanuts and began throwing them at him with deadly accuracy.

The guy turned around, “Whoa, babe, you didn’t need to throw things at me to get my attention.”

“Well maybe I wouldn’t have to get your attention if you would just shut the fuck up,” Carmilla snarled.

“What’s your problem?” the woman next to him chimed in, accompanied by a glare that would rival Carmilla’s own. Her jaw was tight and her shoulders were proud. 

Carmilla replied with a smile and sickly sweet voice, “Just keep it down and I won’t have one.”

“Hey, Mel, it’s okay,” the man turned back to Carmilla, “We’ll quiet down,” he reassured her.

The bar was disgusting. The lack of lighting was clearly a strategic move to help the customers overlook the less than desirable conditions of the bar. There was some sort of fungus clinging to the floor boards in the shadows, there was a faint smell of vomit lingering around the door, and Carmilla was fairly certain there was a dude getting a handjob in one of the corners. Everyone either didn’t care or was too drunk to notice. 

A few minutes later, Carmilla’s head emptied in a new way. The world became more simple. No Force, no death, no angst, no loss, no mistakes.. Just a dizzying emptiness and desire as a group of pretty girls walked by her.

It had been a while since Carmilla had sex.

Eight days, to be exact.

One thing on her mind, Carmilla swaggered over to the table the ladies had occupied and gestured for the bartender to bring them a round of drinks.

“You all look thirsty.”

The girls giggled and toasted. She made herself at home, standing directly between the one with the biggest ass and the one with the most enticing lips.

Carmilla shamelessly flirted for a time, sometimes her mouth going faster than her slightly intoxicated brain, and the drinks kept flowing. Stumbling slightly, Carmilla walked up to the bar to get another round, when she noticed a new woman at the bar. She was really pretty. The way her hazel eyes sparkled… it was like some of that metaphor shit Mattie was always talking about.

Carmilla got the drinks for her new friends and ordered another for the girl at the bar.

This is what Carmilla liked to imagine her life would have been like without any complications. Without the Force, without the Jedi bullshit. Just her trolling around bars, ending up in a new bed every night, then moving on to a new city once she was done. Not a bad life. 

Carmilla shook her head to push away the sobering thoughts. 

She’d just snuggled back up between the two beautiful women when the really pretty girl walked up to them, practically bouncing. Carmilla could feel the energy dripping off this one without even needing to use the Force. 

“Hi, um, you’re the one who bought me the drink, right,” the girl blushed.

“Who wants to know?” Carmilla quirked an eyebrow. 

The girls next to Carmilla stiffened. The one on the left spoke first, “You’re buying drinks for another girl?”

Then the other, “At the same time as us?”

The women got up and left, obviously leaving the tab to Carmilla. There went her chances of getting laid.

Carmilla sighed, “Yes, I would be the one, cupcake.”

The girl smiled brightly sat down next to Carmilla. “Can I know the name of the gorgeous woman who sent me a drink?” Her eyes were rivaling the intoxication the drinks had brought with them. 

Carmilla observed the girl with new eyes as she began sobering up, “Carmilla. And how about you?” She almost had a glow about her.

“Laura.”

Carmilla mulled that over. Laura. She was beautiful. Hazel eyes that came alive with every word she spoke, brown hair that some would find plain but Carmilla found to be entrancing with hints of honey blonde obvious even in the low light of the bar. Carmilla’s eyes flickered down to Laura’s lips and back up. Normally, she’d try to be slightly less obvious but Laura was unashamedly taking her time glancing up and down Carmilla’s body.

At that moment, Laura shook her head and seemed to snap out of her trance.

“See something you like?”

Laura began to laugh nervously, then covered it with a cough, “Of course not, well, I mean, these wooden countertops are just lovely aren’t they, especially for a bar...”

As Laura continued rambling, Carmilla raised her eyebrow, a small smirk peeking through. This girl was cute, in an extremely awkward way. Carmilla stayed quiet, seeing how long she would keep talking. 

“... You’re not gonna help me out are you?” Laura took a deep breath and forced herself to stop talking, staring determinedly at a wall.

“Nope,” Carmilla had to admit, this was the cutest trainwreck she had ever witnessed. “Any other thoughts on the decor, maybe the inherent lack of lighting,” she moved in slightly, looking directly at Laura’s lips as she spoke, “making the room a little more… intimate?” 

Laura’s eyes widened, and Carmilla began making her move forward, when the Beef Stick and his side kick from earlier walked over and interrupted. 

“Yo, Laura, you probably shouldn’t mess with this one. I know she’s like, super hot, but she’s not very nice.”

Carmilla gave him the darkest look she could muster. He flinched.

“Kirsch, I’m perfectly capable of making my own decisions, thank you very much. And she seems nice enough,” Laura responded. She sat up even straighter and the grin that stretched across her face was hypnotizing. Carmilla wasn’t aware of her gruff exterior slowly being chiseled away the longer she sat by this girl.

“That’s what the last five girls she’s tried to seduce thought,” Mel crossed her arms over her chest. 

“And that would be my business, wouldn’t it?” Carmilla smoldered. Mel matched the look, challenging Carmilla silently. 

Carmilla would probably like this chick if she wasn’t defending the Beef Stick. 

“Guys,” Laura stood between them, “I’m fine.” Laura gave Mel and Kirsch a stern look, speaking with authority Carmilla was certain she could not possess. Mel set her jaw defiantly and glanced at Kirsch. He looked at Laura with a concerned look, eyes flickering to Carmilla occasionally. 

He sighed, “Fine. But you know how to find me, yeah?”

Laura smiled, “I do. Thank you.”

The peanut gallery exited the bar, although Carmilla was not confident they had actually left the premises. Laura sighed, the annoyance and nearly two decades hidden behind the gesture. 

Carmilla turned back to Laura, and put on her best seductress face. She leaned in a little more and finished off the drink she had been nursing. Laura flipped her hair and brushed it out of her face. She was stunning. 

Laura poised herself, sitting up straight and crossing her legs.

“So where were we?” Carmilla leaned in part of the way, the girls only separated by a few inches of stale air. 

Carmilla looked down at her lips, slightly parted and enticing. The haze in her mind had completely faded, which meant no turning back and no blaming her actions on alcohol.

Carmilla looked up to meet Laura’s gaze before slowly closing the gap, attempting to create some anticipation in the smaller girl. Laura’s eyes fluttered for a second. 

“Woah, hold on,” Laura stopped Carmilla just before their noses touched, “I try not to kiss strangers the day I meet them.”

Carmilla grinned sideways and motioned for the check. She glanced over to the clock on the wall hanging by the entrance to the bathrooms, “I can wait three more minutes,” Carmilla said, keeping the distance between their lips steady. 

Laura grinned and pulled back, giving Carmilla a light punch on the shoulder, “You know what I mean.”

Carmilla sighed. She really had no chance of getting laid tonight. Figures.

“So… do you come here often?” Laura tried to bridge over the awkwardness, being as unsuccessful as an umbrella in a hurricane. 

“Only when I’m not trying to save the galaxy,” Carmilla said with just enough sarcasm to be ironic. Laura, not aware of how true the sentiment was, laughed a full and bubbly chuckle. The sound was intoxicating. 

The two women continued their small talk into the early hours of the next day. Carmilla relentlessly flirted while Laura politely shut down her advances each time. Eventually, Carmilla stopped caring about having sex that night. Laura devoured all thoughts in Carmilla’s mind with everything she learned about the woman. Her love of chocolate, her fear of vampires, her obsession with grape soda. Carmilla almost didn’t want the sun to rise, knowing her acquaintanceship with Laura would have to end as the day began.

And she couldn’t bear to face reality. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We promise there is a reason for what happened in Chapter 2... We're sorry

Chapter 3

\----------

Laura smiled softly and tucked her hair behind her ear. Carmilla, the woman she’d met mere hours before, was holding the door for her. Laura knew it was some faux-chivalrous way of trying to get in her pants, but she didn’t mind. She was used to the pleasantries by now.

The two women walked into the soft light of the dawn. A lavender and pale blue sky mingled as the morning put the moon to bed. There was something beautiful about the nature of a planet showing through, past the footprint of man and alien. There was a marked lack of vehicles in the area, but the soft chirping of birds was comforting. Light and uplifting. Laura felt oddly safe, despite the lack of bodyguards. Perhaps it was Carmilla. She gave off an air of protectiveness. 

Laura turned to look at the dark-haired woman, ready to utter her goodbyes and allow the budding romance to disappear. As much as she’d always loved the stories of the princess falling in love with the commoner, Laura knew it couldn’t be her reality.

Forestalling her imminent farewell, Carmilla swore.

“Someone stole my speeder bike damnit, now I have to walk.”

Laura raised her eyebrows, “Did they really break into the locking system? I thought that was impossible.”

Carmilla shifted her weight, mumbling, “I didn’t use the stupid locking system.”

“Well that wasn’t very smart,” Laura replied, leaning into the woman. Realizing their proximity, Laura took a step back and spoke formally, “Tonight was pretty fun, you know. But I should probably get going.”

Carmilla’s shoulders drooped for a moment before pulling back again, “I should as well. Morning meetings,” Carmilla punctuated the statement with a roll of her eyes. There was something about this woman that intrigued Laura, but she couldn’t quite place it. It wasn’t the sarcasm, although it did have its charms. It also wasn’t the shameless flirting, Laura had dealt with that many times before and it had never amused her. 

Carmilla and Laura’s eye contact lingered, neither wanting to leave. It was fun, whatever it had been, and it regardless of how Laura might possibly feel, it could never happen. 

“Right, well, bye!” 

Carmilla smiled smally, “Goodbye, Laura.” She looked down. 

The two began walking in the same direction.

Not goodbye?

“Resorted to stalking now, Cupcake?”

Laura’s mouth flopped open, “No!”

“Then where are you going?” Carmilla asked with a hint of a smirk on her face. Laura knew the area fairly well after all of the field trips she’d gone on with her father and his guards; the path they were on dead-ended at an area she was very certain Carmilla didn’t belong. 

“The Jedi temple, and you?” Laura tried to match the smugness Carmilla seemed to constantly exude.

Laura watched as Carmilla’s eyebrows flew up for such a brief moment she wasn’t sure it’d happened. “What a coincidence…” she paused, clearly amused, “so am I.”

“Oh really, are you petitioning the Jedi for something? Last I knew there were strict visitation rules for townspeople.”

“Creampuff, I am a Jedi.”

Laura narrowed her eyes, “No way.” 

Carmilla shrugged, “What about you? Are you one of the petitioning townspeople?”

“Um, no, I’m the princess of the Kingdom of Silas.” Laura allowed the flash of anger to guide her mouth, telling a stranger something she didn’t even tell some people she considered friends.

“Yeah right,” Carmilla chuckled, “prove it.”

“Oh yeah? Well prove you’re a Jedi. Do you have a lightsaber?”

Carmilla’s mouth stretched slowly into a grin, “I’m afraid I can’t disclose that information.”

Laura contemplated snorting back a response. Her curiosity was growing exponentially. She’d never seen a lightsaber up close before, and if Carmilla really were a Jedi - which Laura doubted - then she could have unfettered access to the ways of the Jedi. So many holes in the narratives could be filled in and Laura could finally understand the power they possessed. 

Laura was hesitant though. She’d read so many articles about commoners prancing around the market district with various items, like a plank, a piece of metal, or bone claiming they knew the ways of the Force, when really they were just hopped up on some powder the smugglers snuck in from the Lustig System. 

Laura eyed Carmilla as they walked. They made small talk here and there and occasionally a comfortable silence hung over them. The fresh air was nice. It was just crisp enough to coax Laura into sobriety. She hadn’t had a lot to drink, she always had to be careful of anyone who knew her true identity, but it had been just enough to get a little tipsy. 

Carmilla was beautiful. The slight breeze kicked up, rustling her hair, intoxicating Laura in a different way. 

As she focused on the feeling, Laura began to distance herself from it. She knew it wouldn’t last. It couldn’t. But it was nice to pretend while they walked. She imagined holding the woman’s hand, walking together not worrying about the responsibilities that come with royalty. All the rules and expectations. 

The two women arrived at the steps of the Jedi Temple, so engrossed in each other's company Laura hadn’t even noticed how far on the path they’d gotten.

“Well, ‘Jedi’, now’s your last chance to turn back if you’re not telling the truth.”

“Same goes for you, ‘Princess.’”

Neither of them moved for a moment, then Carmilla shrugged her shoulders and began walking up the steps. She was met by a tall, powerful looking Jedi, who promptly gave her a hug and whispered something in her ear.

Laura’s gaze shifted to see her father standing with his guards at the top of the steps. She hopped up one by one until she was at his side. He ruffled her hair. 

“Dad, how many times have I asked for you to stop doing that?”

“I still have to do it,” her father smiled at Laura, “I was completely prepared to give you a stern talking to today about the dangers of going out alone, but I’m glad to see you sought out the protection of the Jedi before I had to.”

Laura’s eyebrows pulled together. Carmilla and the Mystery Jedi approached them.

Mystery Jedi spoke first, “King Hollis, I do believe we have some formal introductions to make. This is our next Jedi-Master-to-be,”

“Yes! Jedi Knight Karnstein. I’ve heard much about you from Jedi Master Morgan.”

Embarrassingly, for the second time that morning, Laura’s mouth flopped open. Carmilla actually was a Jedi.

Carmilla shrugged, “The Dean does like to gossip.”

King Hollis paused momentarily, “The Dean?”

Mystery Jedi stepped in, “Jedi Master Morgan has taught many young padawans throughout the years, including Carmilla and myself. Thus, she picked up that moniker ages ago.”

Nodding to himself, “I see, I see.” 

Laura grew tired of only having half of the information, and tugged on her dad’s sleeve.

He jolted back from his thoughts, “This is my daughter, Princess Laura Hollis. Laura, I’d like you to meet Jedi Master Matska Belmonde. And I see you’ve met Jedi Karnstein already.”

An eyebrow raise and a hint of a smirk from Carmilla just about gave away how much they’d already ‘met.’ Laura glared at her before returning her attention to the matter at hand.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Jedi Master Belmonde.”

“Oh please darling, call me Mattie,” her eyes flitted between Laura and Carmilla, noticing the exchange.

Laura’s father continued the conversation, “Before you and Carmilla arrived, I was telling Mattie that I’d like you to stay here. The Jedi captured all the insurgents we knew about, but until the threat is completely gone, I’d rather know you’re safe.”

“Right, because being surrounded by a minimum of fifteen guards isn’t safe enough?” Laura rolled her eyes.

“You still manage to escape them every few nights to go into town, don’t you?”

Laura pondered the thought, “Fair enough.”

Mattie returned the conversation to its original topic, “We’d love to have her, King Hollis. Jedi Karnstein, since you two have already made each other’s acquaintance,” she paused, looking them both up and down, “maybe you could give the Princess a tour of our facilities.”

Carmilla bowed her head, “Of course.”

King Hollis nodded. “Good. Thank you. The rest of us will be going then,” He looked to his guards, who stood at attention and began following Laura’s father.

Laura stood with Carmilla and Mattie for a few moments as her father and his guards left.

Mattie turned to Carmilla and winked, “Well, I’ll leave you to it then.”

Carmilla’s gaze narrowed at the other Jedi’s words. 

“So, you’re a Jedi.”

“And you’re a princess. Funny how life works, huh?”

Laura glanced around awkwardly, “Yeah, pretty funny.”

The silence grew between them. The temple seemed larger and larger by the second as Laura imagined all the corridors and secret passageways. Laura had read many books about the temple and the proceedings that occurred there in her youth, stashed away safely inside the kingdom. She imagined all the exquisite gardens the Jedi must have to center themselves. The training rooms with obstacle courses that looked impossible to anyone without those capabilities. The libraries with old books and testaments preserved for the education of the next generations, recounting all the major conflicts the Jedi had faced and diffused. Laura wondered how much of the urban legends were true, all the secrets and stories that were in there. Was it anything like the elders spoke of? Were there books on how to teach a commoner the ways of the Force? Laura pondered the possibility of having access to that power. The good that could and has come from it. But also the notion of having to remain detached in order to keep an internal balance. Having to separate from both hatred and love when needed in order to do what’s necessary. Laura wasn’t sure she could do that, let alone want to.

Laura was aimlessly following Carmilla through the temple, busy thinking about all the stories and questions and all the knowledge she could get her hands on in there. It was fascinating. The Jedi pointed as they walked down the hallways. She was speaking, but Laura couldn’t hear her. They passed the first of many labs they saw on the tour, the interior plated with large grates, for what she didn’t know. 

There were tools scattered along the table and a few half built objects protruding from the shelves. 

Carmilla pointed in the other direction and Laura caught the word, “gardens,” as they passed a long corridor stretching so far down, Laura was unsure of it actually had an end. She could vaguely see the outline of a door frame illuminated by the sunlight poking through. 

The fresh smell of grass was a rare occurrence on Styria. There were some patches here and there in the more upscale of places, but given the makeup of the planet, vegetation was a luxury. In the palace they had some, but nothing particularly amazing. King Hollis had hired many of the best gardeners in the galaxy to help but none of them could solve the issues presented by the conditions on Styria. How the Jedi could keep grass alive for more than a few weeks in this climate, let alone these vast gardens, was beyond Laura.

She’d always imagined what roses smelt like, what the soft pull of the wind looked like on the tulips, how the rain bounced off flower petals and brought life to the beauty nature created. Peaceful. 

Carmilla turned around, walking backwards as she pointed over to the weapons bay. Laura’s eyes grew wide as she tuned back into Carmilla’s vague tour.

“That down there is a special room. After each student passes a certain level and graduates to saber training, they go in there. There’s a series of tests you go through and based on how well you do and what your impact on the assessment is, your saber is built. The color comes from a variety of tests from personality to fighting style.”

Laura had so many questions about that room. So many basic, ‘how-do-the-Jedi-work’ type questions. 

Carmilla smirked at Laura’s growing interest. 

“I think that’s pretty much everything, Cupcake. All the cool stuff anyway.”

Try as she might, Laura couldn’t suppress a yawn that had been threatening to escape for several minutes. She’d been up all night with Carmilla and now her curiosity was burning up the last reserves of her energy.

“So, where are the bedrooms?” she queried.

Carmilla raised her eyebrows, “Why, Princess Hollis, how forward of you.”

Laura felt the blood rush to her cheeks as she began to stutter.

It was going to be a long morning.

\-----------

Carmilla strolled behind Mattie into the large, circular room designated for council meetings. Laura stood a few feet off to the left near the wall, probably having persuaded someone to permit her to stay. She was gazing around the room, a look of awe covering her face. Carmilla rolled her eyes but her lips twitched. She should have figured that the Cupcake would get in here somehow. 

The space where the Dean normally sat was inauspiciously empty.

LaFontaine stood a few feet away from Laura, leaning on the wall and carelessly tossing a small piece of metal into the air over and over again. They were allowed into general meetings due to the business they did with the Jedi, and they smiled at Carmilla when they caught her eye. Carmilla’s blood froze in her veins as she felt the emotions radiating out of them. They were happy.

No one had told them about J.P.

Several dozen Jedi, all stationed on other planets, had already called in on their holograms, and Carmilla could feel the eyes of the virtual blue figures following her, their judgements already collapsing down onto Carmilla.

Feeling the anxiety begin to swell within her, Carmilla buried her nerves. Smothering them with the Force until a numb feeling of peace overtook her, Carmilla took a breath. Mattie stopped in the middle of the circle, Carmilla to her left, and she spoke to the audience in an authoritative voice.

“Hello, fellow Jedi. As you all know, we’re here to discuss the happenings around the galaxy and ensure that peace is being kept. Most of you will have nothing to report. That is a good thing. Those of you who have been sitting and twiddling your thumbs might be re-stationed to a less-stable planet to be their Jedi ambassador, until the cycle repeats. Once we’ve finished the status reports, we can discuss any requests to come back to the Temple, whether to visit the archives or recenter yourselves within the Force. Is everyone in agreement?”

Mattie’s eyes flicked around the room, giving everyone a look that told them it would be in their best interest to be in agreement. When no one spoke up, Mattie flashed the crowd an almost predatory smile.

“Excellent. First up is Jedi Karnstein, reporting the recent events on the planet Styria,” Mattie pronounced, walking to her normal seat.

All eyes on Carmilla.

A crack in her walls. 

Anxiety leaked through. 

Her breathing quickened.

Carmilla felt Laura’s intrigue, those adorable doe-eyes soaking up everything, learning what she could with the time she had.

Carmilla felt a rush of calm flood into her. Eyes snapping to Mattie, she saw a quirked eyebrow directed her way. Nodding slightly, Carmilla centered herself with a deep breath. Running a hand through her hair, she relaxed her posture. She could feel Laura’s curiosity coax her as she thought about the report she had planned in her head a few minutes prior. 

In her least affected tone, Carmilla began, “Yesterday I was given a mission to go to The Silas Kingdom, accompanied by two stormtrooper squads and a tech expert. The stormtrooper’s objective was to arrest a group of insurgents in the area that had stolen a large quantity of dextrogen. I was to guard the tech expert while he ensured the sensitive materials were not compromised. The mission went smoothly.”

Eyes flitting to LaFontaine periodically, Carmilla pushed forward, “However, one of the stormtroopers had a blaster malfunction once we rounded up the insurgents and the situation was diffused. Our tech expert,” she spoke with held breath, “J.P. Armitage, was hit and killed instantly.”

There was a sound of metal dropping to the ground, and Carmilla could feel the shock flood the room, seep into her head, and hover around the base of her skull, clinging, as LaFontaine exited the room with haste. 

Laura’s eyes widened as she looked at the door the nerd had just disappeared through. Carmilla felt a fluttering wave of empathy radiate from the princess as she looked down to the table, processing what Carmilla had just said. The feeling melted into a soft sadness that painted Laura in a shimmering glow. Her features relaxed. 

Carmilla closed her eyes, attempting to keep a hold of herself as an undulating surge of LaFontaine’s sorrow almost overwhelmed her.

The room fell silent. Every Jedi had trained in the temple and had met the dean’s sons on multiple occasions. They’d all been fond of J.P.

Mattie cleared her throat, “I suppose we now know why Jedi Master Morgan has missed her first council meeting…” ruminating for a moment on that thought, it took a moment before Mattie returned her focus to Carmilla, “And why wasn’t J.P. wearing armor?”

“A flimsy piece of armor wouldn’t have done any good if detonation had occurred. And we don’t have any dextrogen-plated suits lying around.”

At that moment, Carmilla felt a high-strung presence enter the room. Must be Tweedle-Dum.

Carmilla turned and saw the bouncing curls of LaFontaine’s business partner, Perry, enter the room, already speaking, “Hello all, I was wondering if any of you knew where LaFontaine was? I scheduled a meeting for them to attend and it was supposed to start ten minutes ago. I know they’re forgetful but this is happening far too--”

“Darling,” Mattie cut Perry off. “LaFontaine just found out that J.P. has passed out of this world. They left in a rush.”

“Oh, to which planet did he go?” Perry asked.

Taking a deep breath, pity covering her features, Mattie continued, “Perry, J.P. is dead.”

Perry’s eyes widened, and she stuttered for a moment, “LaFontaine told me about J.P.’s mission…” trailing off, her eyes drifted until she found Carmilla. Perry’s eyes narrowed. “Why weren’t you protecting him? Wasn’t that your job?”

“I’m sorry, Perry,” Carmilla did her best to stay steady, in voice and body.

Mattie swooped in to save her, “Perry, I know this is hard and blame is easy to place, but right now I think LaFontaine needs you more than we do here. You should go to them.”

Perry’s eyes widened again and she nodded, “You’re right. I have to cancel that meeting.”

Once she’d left the room, Carmilla turned back to the elder Jedi, “Mattie, I--”

“Thank you, Jedi Karnstein. That is all for your report.”

Numbly, Carmilla took her seat next to where Mattie had been. As the other Jedi began and ended their reports, Carmilla politely looked at each one without truly seeing, only able to focus on the feelings of grief coming from LaFontaine somewhere in the temple. Words kept flowing through the room and Carmilla allowed herself to sink into them, burying herself just as J.P. was buried nearby.

\-----------

LaFontaine was suffocating.

Logically, they knew they were getting enough oxygen to their brain because their breathing pace was two and a half times its normal rate, but the burn in their lungs and the dizziness in their head argued otherwise.

They sucked in another unproductive breath.

J.P. was gone.

The thought knocked any oxygen left in their lungs out and they crumpled to the ground in a hallway near their lab. Scooting over to lean against the wall, LaFontaine instinctively pulled their knees into their chest, another ragged breath trying to make its way to their lungs.

LaFontaine closed their eyes and rested their head against their knees. The thrumming of their too-fast heartbeat dominated their mind for too many agonizing moments.

This was inefficient.

The thought momentarily punctured the panic and LaFontaine began to focus on slowing their heartbeat, and in turn, slowing their breathing. They counted steadily from one to eight repeatedly until their lungs no longer ached and they couldn’t hear a pounding in their ears.

LaFontaine wiped their sweaty hands on their pants.

J.P. was gone.

J.P. was gone because of a blaster LaFontaine had designed.

On a mission J.P. had volunteered to go on in LaFontaine’s place.

And so broke the dam.

Hot tears slid down their face and sobs wracked through their body. LaFontaine went from suffocating to drowning in the span of a breath. Drowning in desolation, drowning in grief, drowning in isolation.

Through their sorrow, they heard a consistent beeping noise. The reminder droid.

LaFontaine stared for a moment, wondering just what they truly had without J.P.

Pieces of metal, circuit boards, meetings they never attended.

J.P. had brought the humanity to their life. The community, the electricity, the laughter.

Now gone.

A swell of anger overtook them and they swatted the device out of the air, pieces scattering along the floor.

Shocked, they froze for a moment before letting their hand fall forlornly to the floor.

An unknown amount of time passed like that. LaFontaine staring at the shards, tears still streaming down their cheeks, feeling a kinship to the shattered technology. 

A pair of tailored grey slacks came to stand before LaFontaine.

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.”

LaFontaine managed a weak smile, “What, for that reminder droid? It was asking to be broken.”

Perry swept away the fragments and sat across from LaFontaine, directly in their line of sight. She stretched a foot out to nudge LaFontaine’s calf.

LaFontaine knew it was just a gesture, a physical movement meant to garner sympathy. But it felt nice. So they relaxed their body enough to see relief etch its way onto Perry’s face. 

Unable to clear the fog clouding their brain, LaFontaine pushed any words out of their mouth that they could.

“It wouldn’t stop beeping so it had to go.”

Perry gave an understanding smile, the way LaFontaine had always understood technology, Perry had understood LaFontaine.

“What can I do?” Perry asked.

LaFontaine stared at the remnants of the droid, unable to respond.

Perry followed their gaze. “You know, we are near the lab… you could fix this up. It might take your mind off things, liven things up.”

LaFontaine began picking up the materials, beginning to piece them together in their mind. They began thinking of all the possibilities. They’ve invented A.I.s before. It couldn’t be that hard to program Jeep’s personality into a droid. There might be a few issues with small mannerisms but after some tinkering and teaching and field tests and maybe a model or two down the line they maybe, just maybe could bring him back. 

Perry pulled LaFontaine’s chin up so their gazes would meet, “Honey…” she trailed off. LaFontaine knew their thoughts were plastered all over them. They sighed, holding the mutilated droid in their arms, attempting to fight back another surge of sorrow. 

“Would you like me to talk and distract you?”

LaFontaine nodded numbly.

“The corporation we met with last week decided to make a deal with us. Fairly good upside to the contract, we supply them with manufacturing droids before we publicly sell the models, and they pay us just under one and a half times what they’ll eventually be worth on the market...”

As Perry continued to speak, LaFontaine dragged their eyes to look at the woman. Perry didn’t have a single crease in her suit, each piece probably having been meticulously ironed that morning. There were no tear marks on Perry’s face as LaFontaine assumed there were on their face. Hair perfectly curled to minimize frizzing.

Perry looked as though everything was fine.

LaFontaine’s world had shattered and Perry was fine.

Another rush of anger flowed into their veins. 

“Why isn’t this affecting you?” 

Perry froze after being interrupted, eyes widening. She quickly regained her composure before responding to LaFontaine.

“That isn’t what you need right now. It wouldn’t do anything for me to be hysterical.”

For a moment, LaFontaine considered Perry’s words. A ghost of the suffocating feeling from earlier crept back. Memories flashed through their mind, programming, puns wars, performing experiments with J.P.

Their last conversation.

“No. It doesn’t matter what I need, or what you think I need, whatever that might be,” LaFontaine gestured off, not seeing what they were looking at, “I can’t live if you code yourself based on my behaviour. I need you to be real.”

Perry stood up as though she’d be hit with electricity. Moments passed and she didn’t move, obviously unable to decide the best course of action, like a prototype.

Further proving LaFontaine’s point.

Kinks in the design. 

“Just go, Perry.”

LaFontaine’s words snapped Perry out of her stasis, and she whirled around and took off the way she’d come. 

Without any stimulation to provide a distraction, LaFontaine’s guilt multiplied and barraged their logic. Eliminating any reason it couldn’t be their fault.

They built the blaster.

They went to a meeting instead of going on the mission.

They killed J.P.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wait no more! We finally managed to find time between work, school, and other projects to get back to editing.
> 
> Also, sorry for all the fucking angst, we promise there's some fluff in the next chapter. Enjoy!

 

Danny went from room to room on the dean’s starship, unable to find the Jedi Elder. Danny’s feelings had led her to the vessel, but no further. She let out a noise of frustration. When she needed it most, the Force would never give her what she needed. An area, but not a location. A sentiment, but not a specific feeling.

Eventually, Danny found the Dean in J.P.’s former quarters. Blueprints were scattered, the bed half-made. Crumbs from energy bars littered the room.

The Dean sat on the floor, clutching a notebook of some sorts to her chest. Her hair was askew, clothes were disheveled, and the scent of body odor protruded.

Danny stepped into the room tentatively, “Jedi Master Morgan?”

The Dean’s head snapped up, feral eyes fixed on Danny.

Danny staggered back, “The report has been published. The council sent over a copy and the debrief is in the file and I just wanted to be sure you got it.”

The Dean barked a laugh out, “My son was murdered and you’re here to tell me the report, recounting the exact details of his death, is sitting out on the command deck for me to read at my earliest convenience?”

Danny looked to her feet.

“Like its some light reading material I requested while you were at the market?” the Dean scoffed.

Danny began to apologize, a quiet and self-conscious response which fell flat as the Dean interrupted her.

“I’m well aware that your upbringing taught you to act without any tact, but in the ways of the Jedi,” she spoke with a level of sarcasm, “diplomacy is everything. Carmilla knows this.” The Dean’s words were even sharper than her body movements.

“Carmilla. Right,” Danny forced herself to drain the emotion out of her tone, “I’m never going to measure up, am I?” There was a lingering sting she held deep within her frame. Danny tried to push it down, hide it, repress it, knowing the Dean would see it if she weren’t quick.

Danny detached herself.

She numbed herself.

The Dean snarled a half-chuckle, “No,” she eyed Danny for a moment, slowly igniting the jealousy that was buried within the Padawan’s core. “You are not stronger than Carmilla in the Force. You never have been and you never will be. But you have one thing that Carmilla lacks that will ultimately be the catalyst to her downfall.”

The Dean clenched her fists and looked back at the Jedi-in-Training, who was contemplating the implication behind the Dean’s speech. Danny remembered the feeling of nearly beating Carmilla on the command deck a short few days prior. The feeling of having an edge. The raw power pulsating through her chest, radiating out through her lightsaber.

“Carmilla murdered my son. She is as dead to me as he now is,” The Dean spoke nonchalantly, matter of factly, as if she had distanced herself from the rage she had just shown a moment ago. “The Order has become weak, crippled, and tainted since I rebuilt it from the dark days not so long ago. Carmilla’s apathy and selfishness are a prime example. In order to have any change, any hope at building the order into the entity it could be, we must rethink our strategy in training you.”

Danny felt a shift in the Force. Heavy. Suffocating. Murky.

“It’s time her and I have a little chat; bring Carmilla to me.”

\-----

Laura sped through the hallways of the Jedi Temple, nose buried in a map of the grounds. She’d been trying for hours to learn her way through the building, hoping to visit the gardens outside. She wanted to see what flowers they had. What kind of trees grew in one of the most peaceful gardens in the system? How often did they water the gardens? Was there a trick to keeping everything alive? Laura contemplated the knowledge she could gain if she managed to meet the groundskeepers. She had so many questions and the fact that she couldn’t find the gardens increased the anticipation with each round of disappointment Laura faced.

Unfortunately, she’d been distracted on her tour and hadn’t retained anything Carmilla had shown her.

It wasn’t Laura’s fault Carmilla’s wavy hair was mesmerizing.

Or that her sarcastic jokes were hilarious.

And that her eyes were just--

Laura groaned into her map, cursing herself for getting a crush on the first person she got to know outside of her family’s kingdom.

Laura managed to find some hologram pen type thing - what exactly, she was not sure - that could write on the walls of the temple but could be removed without damaging the integrity of the interior design of the temple.

It had taken Laura a short while to realize there was a set of goggles hidden in her bedroom that would aid her untrained eyes in seeing the writing. Much to her mortification, there were countless scrawls of Carmilla’s name and hearts on the walls in Laura’s handwriting where she’d been practicing. Laura was so focused on figuring out the device, she hadn’t paid attention to what exactly she was doing.

After hours of attempting to figure out how to remove the words, her room was covered in scribbles barely visible to her naked eye. Laura locked her door before leaving to avoid anyone finding her artistic endeavours.

Laura rounded the corner to a new hallway. It stretched down four door lengths on the right, just like the map said. “The door leading to the gardens should be just to the left…” Laura turned and her face met with cold steel. She put the goggles on and proceeded to the passage across from the first door on the right. When Laura’s head popped up over the map, she was disappointed to see her little doodle of a flower in a circle on the corner of the wall, indicating she had already been here, and failed. Laura huffed, “not again…”

Shaking her head, Laura returned her attention to her map, pushing the goggles onto her forehead. The map didn’t say anything about a black gooey substance that smelled a lot like old dairy. This thing had to be outdated.

Laura spun around at the chuckle behind her. Someone with short but messy orange hair bore a tiny smile. They were sitting at a lab table, random pieces of metal scattered around them.

Laura recognized them from the Council Meeting she’d attended a couple days before.

“Are you looking for the gardens?” they asked.

Laura’s cheeks burned, “Am I close?”

“Not even remotely.”

Laura nodded, “of course I’m not,” the princess sighed, removed the goggles from her head, and flopped onto the chair across from the person. Laura set her map and eyewear to the side and observed them tinkering with a metal sphere.

  
Their hands were very gentle. They were repairing some sort of droid, Laura thought. Their shoulders were high and tight. The crinkle in their brow suggested intense focus. The metal worked with them, holding steady for them to connect.

“Eyes,” they called reaching for a welder. Laura closed her eyes as the scientist connected the pieces together. She opened her eyes to see them wiping their hands off, grease now coating a generic rag. They sat back and looked at Laura.

Remembering herself, Laura flashed the person a smile and stuck her hand out, “I’m Laura.”

They gingerly shook Laura’s hand in return, “LaFontaine."

Laura’s jaw dropped momentarily until she could recover. “LaFontaine, like LaFontaine Industries?”

The scientist eyed her cautiously, “Yes?” The scientist picked up a tool of some sort, what exactly Laura was unsure, and began finishing the droid repair. The pieces moved easily in their hands. Laura wondered how long they had been inventing and testing and repairing things. They looked peaceful, if somewhat tense. LaFontaine’s eyes were dark, posture slightly slumped forward, and curled in on itself.

“Oh my god. You’re a huge contributor to the Hollis Kingdom’s economy, I’ve seen your name so many times on the capitol records, buying massive amounts of raw materials from us.” Laura paused, marvelling, “This is so cool!”

LaFontaine’s eyes widened, “You read economic records for fun?”

Laura felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment, “Daughter of a massively overprotective King, I have to manufacture my own entertainment somehow.”

The engineer stayed silent for a moment, eyes narrowing slightly at Laura.

She pressed on, “I’ve met Perry at the business meetings I’ve attended with my father, but I’ve never had the chance to meet you. I’d love to pick your brain as to what you do with everything we sell you.”

Laura noticed as LaFontaine stiffened at her words. She grimaced, remembering the other time she’d seen the scientist. They immediately began putting tools back in their respective drawers. They buttoned up the droid’s back compartment and flipped a switch on.

“Sorry, I get ahead of myself sometimes. I’m so sorry about J.P., I heard you two were really close.”

LaFontaine looked down and began fiddling with the pieces of scrap metal in front of them. Laura felt blood rush to her cheeks as the silence in the room grew. LaFontaine met Laura’s gaze, plastered on a meek smile, and nodded their head.

The droid they had been working on began floating in the air, spinning around with a laser mapping out the surface of the room. When it concluded, it faced LaFontaine and they ran diagnostic checks on it.

LaFontaine prompted the droid for the schedule of the day. It beeped out some sort of rhythmic code Laura understood none of. LaFontaine motioned for the droid and it lowered itself in their hand, popping the side compartment open for tinkering.

“Repeat,” LaFontaine urged the droid.

It spoke with a muffled British accent, “Your schedule for the day has been cleared by Ms. Perry.” LaFontaine nodded at the information before turning back to the desk. They finished cleaning the lab and sat down at the table once again. The droid beeped. LaFontaine didn’t move. They were staring off at a wall covered in a dark matte material. Laura vaguely recognized it. She had questions for the scientist but did feel comfortable voicing them. Their eyes were distant.

LaFontaine’s hands were folded together in their lap, one thumb idly tracing over their knuckles. Laura wanted to say something. She couldn’t find words that were appropriate. Laura looked down, brows furrowed, and contemplated what they must be feeling. LaFontaine blinked hard, returning to reality, as Laura heard a knock at the door.

“Have any of you seen Carmilla?”

Laura straightened in her seat, eyes widening, “No, but I can help you look if you want.”

Danny gave the princess a disapproving look. Laura wondered if the feelings had seeped out of her as she spoke. Her crush wasn’t that big, was it? How could it be. Laura tried to shake the thoughts as she remembered the scientist.

Laura turned back to LaFontaine, “you know, you could help us look. It might take your mind off things.”

LaFontaine shrugged, citing some technical jargon as an excuse. They were tinkering with the droid again.

Laura’s brows furrowed, but she turned back to Danny. Laura could hear her father’s voice in the back of her mind telling Laura it wasn’t a princess’ place to pry. Laura grinned and hopped to her feet.

“Where should we start?” Laura hopped to her feet.

\--------

Carmilla felt her legs coil beneath her, their raw power ready to be exerted. She released from her crouch and soared into the air, aiming for a small ledge hanging from the wall some 50 feet above her. She allowed the Force to make up for the distance she could not cover, letting the soft push it gave Carmilla propel her near the ledge. Carmilla scrabbled for a hand hold, fingers somehow finding purchase, her arms hoisting her up onto the platform.

Not enough.

Carmilla leapt back down, pushing herself into a full run through the Jedi obstacle course, leaping across gaps, jumping on surfaces at odd angles, flipping around anything that got in the Jedi’s way. Eventually she finished the circuit, just shy of her best time.

Not enough.

She ran the course again, 13 seconds faster than her personal record.

Still not enough.

Carmilla ran the circuit again, this time with her lightsaber drawn. She slowed considerably, struggling to find a rhythm the steady herself into.

This is why J.P. died.

Again and again and again Carmilla felt the power thrilling through her, trying to improve second by second on the course, trying to somehow let her current focus and dexterity travel back in time to save him. She turned on a training droid, channeling her anxiety and growing frustration, flipping it to the hardest level of training.

Carmilla closed her eyes and followed the droid around the room. It levitated in front of her, quickly gliding in the air around her, forcing her to stay focused. The droid fired off shots in such a quick succession that Carmilla nearly caught a few rays in the ribs. She moved with such dexterity, spinning, flipping, and dodging bolts, protecting herself with her trusty purple beam. The droid sped up the attacks further. Carmilla opened her eyes and fought back with such ferocity, she could feel the energy radiate through her bones.

  
Her chest was heavy, heaving and clouded. This was not the way to grieve. This was not the way to bring him back. This was dangerous. This was what Carmilla had been fighting inside her, since her training began.

She slowed when she felt two presences approaching. Laura and Danny. Laura was her usual bubbly self, but Danny was clouded, a new, ominous feeling surrounding the Padawan. Carmilla couldn’t quite place the cause.

“The Dean wants to see you, Karnstein.”

Carmilla turned off the droid, approaching the two women who’d walked in the room. Danny, with vestiges of an animal feeling around her, and Laura with infatuation practically pouring out of her.

Carmilla focused on the affection. “Hey buttercup, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Carmilla focused on the way the corner of Laura's mouth quirked up when she smiled. Her eyes were blushing for Carmilla. This girl had literally no smokescreen. Carmilla could feel a bubbling sensation in her core. Laura was speaking, something about the gardens and LaFontaine and the way her face lit up while she spoke was mesmerizing. Captivating and gravitating. She was beautiful. She was innocent.

Laura melted into a puddle, topped with a beaming grin. Carmilla was hopeless. She looked around the room while throwing a casual flirtatious comment to the princess. The bubbling turned to searing. The muscles in her shoulders tightened, begging to return to training.

Laura began stammering, all the while unable to take her eyes off Carmilla’s abs.

“Subtlety is abs-olutely not your strong suit.”

Laura blushed.

Danny scoffed, “Was that a pun?”

Carmilla shrugged, “Don’t know what you’re talking about, Lawrence.”

Carmilla looked at Laura. She could see through the thin layer of poise. Laura was radiant in every sense of the word. Destined to be a wonderful Queen some day. There was no way Carmilla could allow her feelings for Laura to evolve much further. She was cute. She was sweet. And she was interested in everything Carmilla had to offer. But with the searing turning into a struggle through suffocation, Carmilla knew she could never be what Laura needed. What she deserved.

“Hang out with LaFontaine all you’d like, but Laura’s off-limits.”

Laura interjected, “Off-limits? You don’t get to tell me who is and isn’t off-limits anymore, Danny.”

Carmilla raised her eyebrows, looking between the giant and the cupcake, “Do you two know each other?”

Laura returned her attention to Carmilla, eyes lingering on Danny, “We went to school together, Danny’s the daughter of one of my family’s royal guards. One of the only kids I was allowed to play with growing up.”

Carmilla smirked at Danny, “so, I was never far off when I called you a Guard Dog, huh?”

Danny glared at Carmilla, “The Dean is waiting in the docking station. You know how she gets when she’s forced to wait.”

“Calm down, Fido, I’m going,” Carmilla ignored the feeling stewing in her gut as the three of them left the training room.

About halfway to the destination, Carmilla jerked a thumb toward a passageway, “By the way, the gardens are that way, creampuff.”

Laura’s eyes widened and she immediately scampered in that direction.

Carmilla called after Laura, “Try to stay out of trouble, Princess? Don’t want Clifford over here to have a stroke.”

Once Laura was out of earshot, Danny murmured to Carmilla, “I mean it, Karnstein, stay away from her.”

Carmilla ignored Danny as they approached the ship docking area.

The gates to the command ship hissed open ominously.

Carmilla took a deep breath, preparing herself. The Dean was not going to be happy.

Carmilla prepared herself for the lecture she was about to receive. She could feel a vague sense of disappointment through the door.

“Master Morgan, you wanted to see…”

Carmilla lost her train of thought as the emotions of the Dean bombarded her. Hate, distrust, and a need for revenge dominated the air, causing Carmilla’s breath to become labored as she attempted to filter out the darkness she had already been struggling with.

The Dean did not need any more of an introduction.

“You did nothing to save him, how dare you come in here, moping, hoping to pull pity and sympathy out of me, and hoping that your sorrow,” The Dean emphasized the word with enough sarcasm to kill, “will help me look past what you did. What you didn’t do. How you murdered him,” The Dean clenched her fists and walked across the hangar bay toward Carmilla, eyes dripping lava as she huffed.

Carmilla looked down, “Master Morgan, I’m sorry, I don’t know what went wrong…”

“Sorry won’t bring him back! You pathetic child, you weren’t thorough. You weren’t safe. You weren’t smart. You are lazy and wasting your raw talent and because of your unwillingness, J.P. is dead. You were careless and apathetic, that’s what went wrong, and I can’t let his death go unavenged. After all my training, all the effort put into helping you realize your power, you ruined everything. The Order will be better off without you.”

Carmilla stumbled back, the sting of the woman’s words and the viciousness in her intent sending the younger Jedi reeling, “Jedi Master Morgan, I…”

The Dean raised her hands, moving slow enough for Carmilla to process but just fast enough to limit her evasion of the incoming assault. Carmilla’s eyes widened. The Dean used the Force to push every loose particle, every spare part, and every ounce of grief she had toward the Jedi. Carmilla landed square in her stance, narrowly avoiding the largest pieces of debris. Carmilla reached toward her hip to unholster her weapon. She turned to face The Dean, the beam from her saber stretching out slow enough to warrant anxiety from deep inside the Jedi. Carmilla leaned into a defensive stance as more wreckage flew in her direction.

The Dean smirked.

Carmilla fought the swelling grief from overtaking her. The depth of the feeling coaxing her to grab onto the true power she had, lying just beneath the surface, bubbling, boiling up, begging to be used. She repressed it, forcing it to stay dormant.

Before Carmilla could reposition into her attack stance, the dean gestured with her hands towards Carmilla and electricity surged through the younger Jedi’s fit frame, paralyzing her. Carmilla’s muscles tensed, her weapon clattered on the floor, her vision went black, tears streamed down her cheeks. Carmilla let out a shuddered scream.

The Dean eased for a moment, letting the Jedi collapse to the floor.

Carmilla reached for her saber, struggling.

The Dean pulled the weapon into her steaming hands with her strong handle on the Force.

“It is time for you to feel the unfiltered anguish you have caused me.”

Carmilla struggled to breathe.

The Dean yelled as she pushed all of her energy through her nerves, into her heart, and out of her fingertips. Blinding beams of lighting jaggedly ripped through the hangar bay air into Carmilla’s pulsating body.

Carmilla could feel every fiber of her being contracting as she fought the Dean’s attack.

Her chest ached as she heaved, before she fell limp on the floor of the bay.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FUCKING FINALLY FLUFF but a little more angst first. 
> 
> Since we've been so shit at posting, here's another chapter this weekend. Hope you're enjoying!

 

Danny was conflicted.

The Dean told her what had transpired when she’d left Jedi Master Morgan and Carmilla alone.

Every bone in Danny’s body was telling her she’d made a mistake. That she hadn’t considered the consequences of bringing an unsuspecting Carmilla to a Lilita Morgan who Danny was beginning to think was mad with grief. She hadn’t considered Lilita would try to kill Carmilla.

Danny hated Carmilla’s laziness and sheer arrogance.

But she didn’t need to die.

The Dean had told her there was some power Danny had yet to unlock, but Danny wasn’t sure if she wanted to find that power if it meant sacrificing everything she’d been taught at the Jedi Temple.

But the Temple’s teachings had gotten J.P. killed. What other results could and eventually would come from these lessons?

Danny let out a sound of frustration and rose from the chair in which she’d been sitting. Pacing her room, she knew she was going in circles doing nothing.

She needed to make a decision.

Leave Jedi Master Morgan, the woman who’s taught her everything she knows.

Or go back to Carmilla, the jerk who got a genuinely good person killed.

For all Danny knew, this was just an episode her mentor was having. Maybe she would snap out of it given time, come to her senses and go back to the Temple.

But what if she didn’t?

The Dean was sailing into dangerous waters, and lately she was looking less like a Jedi Master and more like a…

Danny’s blood ran cold.

She stood up immediately, and took off to find the Dean. Her mind was a maelstrom of emotions, and she didn’t have nearly enough focus to call upon the Force and calm herself.

Danny found the Dean on the command deck, a place she rarely left anymore. Lilita Morgan had cleaned up over the last day, hair smoothed back, robes crisp and clean. She looked like her normal self, but there was a new edge to the Dean. Something Danny couldn’t quite decipher, but was overwhelmingly present.

Jedi Master Morgan was looking out the window into space. Without turning, she addressed Danny, “Hello, Danielle. I sense you have questions for me?”

The use of her full name which, when from Carmilla normally elicited frustration, now made Danny’s lungs seize up.

“I don’t want training from a Sith,” Danny choked out.

The Dean’s mouth formed into a predatory and condescending smile, “Do you truly know what that word means?”

Danny’s mouth dropped open slightly, “Every Jedi is given years of training on right vs. wrong and exactly what leads to the path of the Sith. They’re dark Jedi.”

“That’s only one side to the teachings, Padawan,” the Dean looked down at the controls on the panel, punching in navigational directions.

“The Jedi keep the most accurate records and histories in the galaxy, what other side could there be?”

The Dean squared her shoulders and turned around, “History is written by the winners. ‘Sith’ is a word used to slap onto anyone the Jedi feel poses a threat to the order. Any Jedi who goes against the grain.”

Danny furrowed her brows, unsure of how to respond.

“Do you remember the story of the Sith Lord, Darth Zuuvak?”

Danny nodded; before she could speak the Dean continued, “He thought the Jedi were abusing their power, playing the role of a higher power so to speak. He spoke words of caution, but the Jedi refused to listen. They couldn’t bear to think the empire, the utopia, they had created and fought to maintain was on the brink of destruction. They persecuted Zuuvak, and once the fighting began, the conflict divided those who thought he was challenging their ways to help them grow - much like a Jedi in training,” she paused to punctuate what she was saying, “and those who thought he was inspiring conspiracy.” The Dean looked back to space.

They were passing a system, one Danny vaguely recognized.

There were five planets. The first one was a stark red. Danny could see billowing dust clouds expand through the atmosphere. She thought back to the systems from her study books when she was a child. It was a mining planet. Nothing but dust, disparities, and darkness, with a lone moon in orbit. The minerals weren’t worth more than pocket change to Danny. The second and third one were close together. Set to impact in five years time. The evacuations had already begun; ships were dispersing through the system, relocating the families to a system with a larger planet, close to the conditions of the originals. The fourth was desolate. Nothing had inhabited it in centuries. The water had risen too quickly once the thaw hit, drowning millions. No one had tried to colonize it since. The final planet was swamped in marshes. Danny heard myths about a mysterious frog ruling the water but never found any proof solidifying it.

The system was quite from the command deck. A quiet introspection to mirror her own.

“I saved them from their senseless fighting. But not before thousands had died. I rebuilt the Order, attempting to keep most Jedi apart, to prevent too many from gathering and sabotaging truly good work. Bringing in alliances through my sons with businesses and armies to build checks and balances,” the dean took a deep breath, “but it seems as though history was doomed to repeat itself. Though not in the exact same manner, the old guard has once again reared its ugly head, this time in the form of a careless young Jedi. Abusing the power she is so fortunate to have. Allowing the innocent to pay the price. And so it’s once again time to bring the Jedi to their senses. At any cost.”

At that moment, Will strode in, chest puffed out and chin high, “Mother,” he came to a stop in front of the Dean.

She nodded for him to speak.

“It’s come to my attention that the crew of the ship has been gathering clandestinely. We’re not sure to what end, but it’s safe to assume they are planning something that would not be beneficial for all parties.”

“Full report?” the Dean asked

As Will launched into a speech, Danny took the opportunity to tune out the two and mull over the new information she’d gained.

What the Dean said made sense. If the Jedi were her only source of information, who could tell how much bias, or even flat out lies, were present in the archives?

Everyone knew how Lilita Morgan, an up-and-coming Jedi, had quelled the last great war amongst the Jedi and Sith. How she’d brought years of peace and even a measure of prosperity to the galaxy. But Danny had never asked about the exact events that had caused the civil war.

And if the Dean was right, history truly was repeating.

Wasn’t it her duty to stop it?

Danny nodded to herself. The only way to prevent a war was to win before it begins.

She could practically hear war drums beating in her head, imagined memories of the crusaders who had failed before her, those whose lives had ended with tarnished reputations and labels of ‘Sith.’

If the Sith were vanguards who knew they could not win impossible wars but tried nonetheless, so be it.

Danny was a Sith.

With the finality of her decision, Danny felt a new power thrill through her veins, spreading from her heart throughout her body. She took a breath and felt the Force envelope her as it never had before, a second skin clinging to her and expanding easily to create a bubble of puissance.

Near her, she could hear the Dean talking to Will, “I should have known they would not be sensible enough to break from their loyalty to the Order. Keep them under surveillance, but do not interfere unless absolutely necessary.”

Danny straightened her posture, allowing her newfound prowess to show in her body language. The Dean took notice. Eyes alight, Danny’s mentor cocked her head slightly, asking the silent question.

Danny had made her decision.

She wasn’t going anywhere.

\-----

Darkness.

Carmilla was engrossed in the suffocating darkness. Her breath was cold in front of her. Her toes numb and her nose red with the chill of the wind. She couldn’t breathe. Carmilla closed her eyes, attempting to center herself and allow the force to guide her but there was nothing. Empty. Vast and isolating. Icicles formed in her lungs and she could feel a burning in her veins. Carmilla turned her head slowly, trying to gauge her location. She could smell nothing, she could only hear her blood pumping through her body, quickly.

  
Without warning it hit her.

A large pilot stood, his back turned to her. His orange jumpsuit was wrinkled beyond repair, his gloves thrown off behind him, sweat pooling. His shoulders were low, the scent of tears and sorrow overtaking her. He turned to make sure she didn’t miss his words, avoiding eye contact.  
It was the Beef Stick from the bar.

Kirsch.

“I’m done.” He dropped his helmet on the ground, the protective eye shield cracked. He walked slowly before he faded. Carmilla reached down to pick up the helmet but it blew away like dust the second she came into contact with the scarred and damaged headgear.

Carmilla reeled back again trying to grab onto whatever she could.

Nothing.

She closed her eyes and when she opened them, the stars met her. She was floating. Off to her left, a planet sat vaguely in the dark, the sun not yet shining on the surface. Peaceful. An X-Wing fighter ripped through the air just past Carmilla, causing her to tumble in the vacuum. She saw a TIE-fighter glimmer in the light of a nearby star, closing in.

Carmilla tried to yell, nothing.

The TIE-fighter stalked the X-Wing, coming up from behind, hiding just out of the pilot’s view. Carmilla couldn’t tell if the X-Wing pilot could see the fighter coming. The pilot maneuvered abruptly, banking hard right trying to shake the fighter. Carmilla could feel the energy. The pilot knew exactly what was coming next. What was inevitable. Carmilla could hear heavy breathing, sweat blinding her vision. A cry of desperation. Carmilla reached out, trying to contact the pilot. Screaming. Screeching. Succumbing to the TIE-fighters advances.

The fighter shot a deadly accurate beam into the X-Wing and an explosion propelled Carmilla backward.

Carmilla closed her eyes and felt a swell in her gut. Every fiber of her being contracted as she screamed out her response to the scene.

Carmilla opened her eyes and she found herself in an office. Her back hit a wall and she dropped to her knees.

She looked around her. The Stress Moppet from the council meeting.

Perry.

Carmilla looked at her hands, which seemed foreign. Carmilla could feel the anger bubbling inside her, a hatred beginning to form. The curly-haired wonder tightened her jaw, her shoulders square as if she was defending the honor of someone she loved.

“It’s all your fault!” she screamed with such ferocity, Carmilla was shaking. She attempted to question the business woman before she sunk to her knees.

Carmilla opened her eyes.

There was molten lava running down the sides of the mountain she found herself on. She stood up and was on a platform, an emergency ship docking bay for disasters such as this. A mining planet most likely. She heard ghostly screams in the distance.

Her breathing quickened.

Carmilla turned around to see Danny charging toward her with her saber extended. Danny jumped, Carmilla swung instinctively, not knowing how she had unholstered her weapon, the two beams ripped through the air on the deck. Danny’s raging passion ignited something in Carmilla.

Carmilla pushed Danny off of her. Danny fought back, a swing above Carmilla’s head. Carmilla blocked it. Danny redirected and bounced off each block Carmilla threw up and became stronger. More pointed. Carmilla lost control.

A shot at her legs, spinning back to her abdomen, two shots deflecting a measly rally from Carmilla, before Danny pounded down her saber onto the Jedi. Carmilla’s knees buckled. She closed her eyes and attempted to center herself to prepare a counter-attack.

She opened her eyes and she was on her knees in front of William on the command deck. Her hands tied behind her back.

William raised his gun, the barrel imprinting on Carmilla’s forehead.

“As you wish,” he smirked before flipping the safety of his blaster off.

Carmilla braced for the shot, hoping that by some miracle someone would save her.

Seconds afterward, a quiet overtook Carmilla. She opened her eyes to find herself enveloped in complete darkness.

She heard a vague whisper, “Stop.”

Carmilla’s head whipped around, searching for the source of the voice that reminded Carmilla of honey blonde hair and the smell of lilies, the flow of a cleansing water. She searched for Laura, growing increasingly frantic with every second she came up empty.

The darkness shimmered and there Laura was, ensconced in a sanctuary of light. The brightness warmed Carmilla’s bones and brought with it fresh air that stung her lungs with its purity. Carmilla breathed it in hungrily.

Carmilla’s eyes adjusted.

The girl who stood in front of Carmilla was beautiful. She was hope for a future. Genuine. The short stature of the girl, her fit frame, the hint of honey in her hair, the flare in her eyes. Carmilla hadn’t noticed she was speaking.

“... trying to be a hero. You’re putting other people’s lives at risk so you can stop some big bad but you won’t stop long enough to listen to people who might actually know something,” the girl huffed, but as adorable as she was, she was livid.

Perry’s words of blame echoed in Carmilla’s ears, the blast shot from Will ricocheted around Carmilla’s skull, the explosion of the X-Wing charred her skin, the words from the business woman poisoned her blood, the duel with Danny, the stars, the shot, the sabers, the blood, the emptiness all came rushing back.

Carmilla was suffocating. Nothing. There was nothing but a void. A voice echoed into the chasm.

Laura spoke, “Stop trying to save everyone. You’re just making them hurt. Just stop.”

\------

“Stop.”

Laura sat in a white room, surrounded by machinery, staring intently at Carmilla, who had been thrashing about on the hospital bed for several minutes. The juxtaposition between the worry in Laura heart, etched onto her face, and the pristine room, with its tall windows allowing sunlight to stream in from outside, was almost comical.

Laura had been here, beside Carmilla, off and on for the past two days. From the moment she stumbled into the hangar bay -- she never did find those damned gardens -- and found Carmilla, lying limp and singed, Laura had been unable to focus on anything else. She knew it was silly, but every time Laura left, she found her mind wandering back to the medical bay where the Jedi slept.

At first the medical droids called it a coma, but after finding out that Carmilla was producing massive amounts of brain waves, they didn’t know what to call it.

Carmilla began to twitch again, her arms and legs tensing with stuttering movement.

She looked like she was at war.

Laura’s frown, present ever since Danny and the Dean disappeared, deepened. Much to Laura’s dissatisfaction, the doctors had told her there was nothing she could do until Carmilla woke up, if she woke up.

She took Carmilla’s hand in hers and pressed her lips to Carmilla’s knuckles.

“Stop,” she repeated more forcefully.

Oddly enough, Carmilla stilled at the word. Laura took the opportunity to study the woman. The light, streaming in from the windows, accentuated both the exquisite bone structure and the scars Carmilla possessed. Laura assumed they were training wounds. The newest addition was covered up by thick white bandages, poking out just above the hospital gown.

Carmilla stirred, eyes fluttering open and darting around the room before settling on Laura.

More specifically, Laura’s lips, which were still planted on Carmilla’s hand.

“So you wait three days to kiss strangers? Good to know.”

Laura’s eyebrows raised reflexively, despite the rush of relief that was washing away some of the worry, “It’s been five.”

Carmilla blinked a few times, squinting slightly as the sunlight peered into the room, eavesdropping on the conversation, “Where did I go for two days?”

“I was hoping you could tell me. You were writhing about for a long time. The doctors didn’t know what to make of it,” Laura squeezed Carmilla’s hand, keeping a close eye on the woman. Just in case she went back to sleep.

Carmilla’s eyes flitted down to Laura’s hand Laura felt a gentle squeeze in return. Laura watched as Carmilla inhaled and rubbed her eyes, “The Dean went all Palpatine on me and kidnapped Danny. I don’t remember a lot, just that I was caught off guard. I didn’t know she could use Force Lightning. I thought that had died out generations ago.”

Laura nodded, “LaF accessed the camera recordings from the hangar bay, so we saw most of it. I can’t believe Danny did this. Gave you over to that woman.”

Her brows furrowed again. In all the time she’d known Danny, Laura had never seen the woman intentionally hurt someone out of malice.

Carmilla shook her head, “No, Danny didn’t know what was going to happen. I would have felt a stronger arrogance or joy from her,” Carmilla trailed off, and Laura waited for her to regain her line of thought.

“This was all the Dean. As soon as I was alone with her I could feel the seething rage and desire for revenge. I don’t know how Danny plays into all of this, but she didn’t want me dead that day.”

Laura felt a question bubble to her lips, despite the gravity of the situation, “So how does that work, reading feelings through the Force? Are you just more sensitive to body language? Or is it like a meter reading you get? Or is it like a specific shade of color you see?”

Carmilla let out a short chuckle, “I can always count on you to ask the hard-hitting questions, can’t I.”

“Sorry. I can’t help myself sometimes.” Laura looked down self-consciously, “Honestly I’m just glad you’re awake now.”

“The Princess was worried about me?” Carmilla drawled with a little less energy than normal, “How flattering.”

Laura blushed a deep red, “Okay but when I found you, you looked pretty crispy, and I’m pretty sure people shouldn’t smell like hamburgers and there was still some smoke and then you didn’t wake up and…,” she trailed off, “I was just really worried.”

Carmilla looked down at their intertwined hands and exhaled slowly, “I’m here, Cupcake. I’m okay,” Carmilla wiggled her eyebrows, “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

Laura smiled softly, “You always have some form of snark up your sleeve, don’t you?”

“Only for you.”

“And every other girl you see at the bar, right?”

“It’s not the same quality of snark. There’s a difference.”

Laura wasn’t sure she was ready to believe that just yet, “Oh please.”

Carmilla grinned, “There’s a threshold of sarcasm. Once it has been reached, that’s it. But here,” Carmilla looked back to their hands laced together and continued, “I’m not bored yet.”

Laura’s jaw dropped in offense, but Carmilla continued.

“You’re different than the other girls at the bar.”

Laura’s heart melted. Laura saw Carmilla’s eyes were wide and she wouldn’t make eye contact. Carmilla, the powerful Jedi, was afraid.

“There’s a glow, a strange atmosphere,” Carmilla paused, “Usually when I’m around people there are certain things I can see. Usually it’s murky and distorted and morphed into something that is covering the integrity, whether it’s greed or lust or anger, but here…” she looked up to meet Laura’s gaze, “You’re transparent. Pure.”

Laura stammered, unable to find the words to respond.

Carmilla grinned, wincing a little, “See, not all sass and sarcasm.”

All Laura could think to do was push herself forward off her seat until her lips met Carmilla’s. At first she was unsure of herself, she wondered if Carmilla could see this coming. But she continued. She rested her hand that wasn’t holding Carmilla’s on the bed by her shoulder. Their noses bumped slightly as the softness of Carmilla’s lips collided with Laura’s, something crashing in the back of her skull like she had been craving this. Laura held her breath until Carmilla returned the kiss. Laura felt the energy move between the two of them.

Carmilla repositioned slightly, her off-hand reaching up to push Laura’s hair out of her face and rest on her jawline, guiding the Princess. Carmilla took control of the kiss, moving their lips together at a ever-so-slowly increasing pace.

Laura shifted her weight, now sitting on the bed. Laura was careful to not touch Carmilla so as to not aggravate her wounds. Carmilla inhaled softly against Laura as her tongue poked out and lightly grazed Laura’s bottom lip.

A beeping noise interrupted them. Laura smiled softly at Carmilla’s groan of confused frustration.

“Time for your medication,” Laura chided in a sing-song voice.

Carmilla looked at Laura incredulously, “You’re going to let them sedate me? Now?”

“You need to let your body finish healing,” Laura gave Carmilla the lightest of pushes.

“I know a better form of medicine to help me heal,” Carmilla waggled her eyebrows.

Laura just rolled her eyes, “Maybe later. For now you need actual medicine.”

“Still worrying about me, huh, Buttercup?”

Laura smiled softly, nodding.

The two women stared at each other, winces interspersed in Carmilla’s face as the IV and subsequent drugs were administered. Laura knew her affection for the Jedi was clearly written all over her face, but she was unable to mask the emotion as she watched Carmilla’s eyes begin to droop.

As the drug washed through Carmilla’s veins, so did a sense a relief through Laura’s.

Carmilla was okay.

And she liked Laura back.

**Author's Note:**

> Questions? Concerns? Rants? Send them to us at lazyhalfbakedpotato.tumblr.com and figurativelycaring.tumblr.com


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